Subway Car
by koijewel
Summary: Farfarello meets a girl in the subway... Oh my


I met him on the subway. He was covered in blood, fresh cuts on his arms and licking a knife, a small smile on his face. Everyone else stayed away, leaning against the doors or the walls, eyes wide and looking anywhere but at the silver haired demon. I, on the other hand, was intrigued. It was 6 am, to early to be up in my opinion but what could I do? The club lured me longer than I realized and I was on my way home from a night of dancing. The black pants and simple shirt clung to me, my strawberry blonde hair up in a ponytail in hope of relieving the heat. I toed closer, tilting my head in curiosity and edged closer, counting the seconds before he said something or lunged forward. Looking back I should have run I should have stayed away but danger and blood always called me.   
  
Two feet apart, I held the bar that ran the length of the sub car, leaning back to give him a good look over. His face was scarred, a pirate eye patch, clashing with his casual clothing. The knife he was calming licking looked dirty, dried brown patches gleaming back at me. His yellow eye shifted and met mine, making him pause his oral actions and grin at me. I smiled back timidly and bowed, as was the tradition in Japan. He just stared and leaned closer, the golden eye running up and down me.  
  
"Hello." I whispered in English, shifting with the sway of the car, moving even closer. I could almost touch him and I took a deep breath in. "Good night?"   
  
Up closer I could see more blood and smell a decay around him, making me reevaluate my actions and what exactly was on him. It wasn't just his blood I reasoned from the shear amount of it.   
  
He blinked at my words, his smile getting wider and he looked like a cat that go the canary, "I hurt God. Yes, the sweet crimson liquid making it even sweeter." He said, with a soft European accent in English. Taking his blade, he moved the extra steps to me and moved his arm forward, the blade touching my neck. I gasped at the cool iron and held still, trying to ignore the predator look in his eye.   
  
"I see."   
  
Heart pounding, panic rising at the sight, I tried to relax, telling myself he could smell fear and the only way out of my foolish act was to be calm and casual.   
  
The doors opened and I watched him, waiting for his move. He thought for a moment and lowered the knife, moving so quickly, I missed the complete action, until dry rough hands touched my face.   
  
"Do you love Him?" The man asked and I nodded, not sure where he was going but hoping my answers where correct. Cautiously I lifted a hand, moving slowly so he would not be afraid, and lash out and I touched the blood soaked shirt, running a finger over the splatters.  
  
"Did they love Him?" I asked. The thought of the people whose blood where on his shirt made shutter and I continued hoping it looked like a shiver from the cool morning air.   
  
His hand came up and covered mine, eye never leaving mine. The subway car started back up and I fell forward, hitting solid muscles and burring my face in a sweat soaked shirt. Nose wrinkling I moved back, only to have strong arms pull me back, holding me in place while we sped off to another stop.   
  
"You do not run. Why?"   
  
Standing here in his embrace I said nothing, not sure how to explain it was a miscalculation that got me into this. Silence seemed safer and easier.   
  
The sub car stopped and I tapped him, "My stop is here." I offered, wildly trying to stay calm and in control. Not that I was, but illusions were beautiful and I needed it right then.   
  
"Home?" The word sounded foreign on his tongue and I answered back yes, ready to run when his arms loosened around me.   
  
"Show me."   
  
The simple request made me pause and I stepped back, his hand on my arm. With a tug we got off the subway car, walking through the subway and up to the street. My apartment was two blocks away and with the grip he had on me, there was no were to go. I was almost in tears and trembling. When would I learn to keep my mouth shut?   
  
Nothing was said on our way to the building, each step leading me closer to my doom, but he seemed happy, speaking in a low tone about God and how He hurt others. It took a few attempts until my door opened, mainly from the nerves running through me and I stepped in the cool dwelling, allowing him access. His boots clicked against the tile of the hallway and I closed the door, bushing past him and throwing my keys on the foyer table.   
  
Everything was still in place, my couch half covered with a blanket, an empty coffee cup on the side table from last night, and I plucked it up on my way to the kitchen. Trying, I went about the apartment, following a routine of cleaning the cup, and pulling out a bottle of water for myself. Movement from the corner of my eye made me turn and the silver  
  
haired man stood, shoeless in my kitchen, tracing the counter with his fingers as he watched me.  
  
"Water?" I asked, holding up the bottle of Dantan for him to see. Silence followed my question and I shrugged, ready to move to my bedroom and into the shower. I walked past him and padded quietly over the carpet, closing my bedroom door for privacy. Half way from stripping the door pushed open and he came in, sitting on my bed and tilting his head, watching. That was all he seemed to do, watch me and smile as if a private joke was going on. I stood in my bra and thongs, half covering myself in attempt at modesty. Not that it mattered. I was going to die and any measure to save myself would just make it more painful. No one met this man and lived.  
  
"God kills and He takes from all of us, yet you are here safe and well. He will weep bitter tears if you die. No?"  
  
"God and I gave up on each other a long time ago. I think He may be happy if I died. More time to torture me and make me suffer for all my sins." I said. He stood up and in an instant my hands where in his, and he was close, the smell of death and blood overpowering me and making me gag.  
  
"Farfarello."  
  
Blinking I repeated the word and he nodded, "My name is Farfarello."  
  
"I'm Elienna." I softly said back, keeping the inches that separate us. A thin layer of sweat covered my forehead and he touched my head, almost caressing me. The Rosary crossed my mind and I closed my eyes, repeating the words silently as his hands moved lower, cupping my breast and running over my sensitive stomach.  
  
*"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen." *  
  
The words gave me no comfort and I sighed, opening my eyes to see the yellow one watching me.  
  
"You pray?" He asked.  
  
"Yes, but it brings no comfort. Not like it did."  
  
"He abandoned you?"  
  
"Yes, He did... like you?" I said frowning at the conversation. His hand remained on my breast but he made no other moves, just breathed in and out, stealing my air with every in hale and giving me back his with every exhale. It was like we were sharing a moment, breathing in each other's essence, and finding some understanding.  
  
The clock in my living room went off then, the sound of time passing and it broke the spell, leaving us there in an uncomfortable space.  
  
"He lies."  
  
I said nothing to that and Farfarello moved back, turning and walk out of the room. A few moments later I heard the front door close and I knew I was alone. Relief hit me and I fell, breathing hard and thanking what ever helped me.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
That was three weeks ago and even though I almost died, I find myself watching the people in the subway everyday, lingering around the stations in hope of seeing him. The crazy look in his eye and the calm voice haunt my dreams, and I often wake up expecting to see him over my bed, that perfect smile on and a knife in his hand. I am not sure if I am crazy or what, but that morning I saw a piece of myself in him. We both hate a God who left us alone to pick up the pieces of our life and carry on. Perhaps a part of me wanted to die that day, to see my blood covering him, baptizing him with my soul and life. All I know is every night I dream of him and everyday I hope it is the day I see my silver haired demon...  
  
~Owari~ 


End file.
